True feelings
by wordy stuff
Summary: True feelings cant be hidden forever. You have to let them out some day. But just because you let them out, it doesnt always mean things get better. Mostly Johnlock but tiny bit of Joriarty. This is like the first fanfic so I would love to hear what you think. I dont mind if its just like saying its all rubbish.


Life, what's the point? You live. You die. You make the people you love either hate or scared of you. You had managed to do it again. Push away and enstrange the one you truly love. His eyes. His stunning beautiful eyes. In fact just everything about him. Everything you will never be able to tell him. Everything you will never be able to have. Everything you want. No you need. You love. Now that ones defiantly right. No. You won't ever have the chance again. You'd pushed him away again. Every time.  
This time is different though. Before you could always hope that maybe something will come up. Something will make him think of you. But no not this time. This time he has been taken. He has his Sherlock. His loving kind, caring Sherlock. Everything I'm not. I can't make words do what I want them to do not like Sherlock. No. Never. He can make them do what he wants. He can twist them in the air before him before anyone can even hear them. The way they obey him. I envy him. I envy the way he does it. The way he speaks the way he has my beautiful fragile John wrapped round his finger. The envy. I don't understand him. How does he do it. I want to find out. To learn. I want a way back to the boy I love. The boy I have always loved. The perfect man. The one I live for. Oh, how strong that envy is. The anger. I want him back. I want to be able to speak to him freely once more. Carelessly, not having to worry about what I say because he already knows. But no, he's Sherlock's now. Sherlock's new toy. His new puppy dog. Oh those eyes. They sting my eyes there unbearable beauty. Those stunning eyes.  
Perhaps that's why I am doing this. Following them. Tracking their every move. Watching them twenty four seven. Hoping one of these days it will click. Then I will understand. I will be able to win back my John's perfect heart. The lack of sleep is starting to get to me. But if I stop even for a second. I am afraid I will miss that one vital thing. The last piece to the puzzle.  
I am sick of this route. Every morning this week. The same little cafe. The same little table at the window. Then the same drive round. Then the getting out looking round with my John at his heels. Asking. Wondering. Yes. I wonder whether he has realised I am here yet? Probably he is the polices 'greatest detective'. The cleverest mind in europe. By now its probably the world.  
I am bored. The same thing every day. Maybe he knows this. Maybe he knew that I would soon get tired. And I have. I am heading in. The table just behind them is free. I sit down. Sherlock's back is to me. But I know he is still watching me. I can see John's face. That beautiful face. This torture.  
I order a large black coffee. I hope that it is enough to keep me awake. His eyes. Those eyes. Sherlock's voice makes my head snap up. He is asking a question, he can't be directing it at John, it wouldn't make sense. 'Who are you?'. I lift my cup once more to my lips. Forcing my head down and my eyes away from John's.  
He stands up and sits back down opposite me. He looks into my eyes. You can feel him. Burrowing his way into your mind.  
'Why?'  
You frown at your coffee unsure of what he is asking you. Why? Do I love John. Why? Do I care? Why? Am I following them. Why? Am I still sat here. No he's cleverer than that he means all three. In one as always. The way he has full control over his words.  
'Why are you following us, watching MY John?' John sits beside him resting his hand on the table between the two. Sherlock puts his on top their fingers in between each others. The torture. Those eyes looking straight at you. Into you. The way his 'master' had taught him.  
Sherlock's free hand tapped a number on the table. I could see that he didn't understand. He couldn't see the war that was waging in our eyes before us.  
He finished and stood. Holding John's hand tightly he stood. 'Let's go. I don't think dear Jim will be bothering us for a little while.' They turn and leave. You follow them until they reach their cab and drive off. You also make your leave. Back to your flat you thank your driver and pay him. You lay on you bed. Exhausted from the lack of sleep.  
My phone twitches in my hand. His number at the top of the screen 077528478291. The bar at the bottom still empty always empty.  
Anyway I have ruined everything again now. He will never speak to me again. Not how I want him too. I guess all of this was just to check. To hopefully find a hole in their relationship but no. They are strong. They are destined to be together.  
Anyway John if you read this if you ever read this. I will always love you. Always care. And will always be there for you no matter what. I truly am glad that you now have the one you love. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I love you. If your Sherlock let's you down you know where I am. I will always be here for you. And I am sorry that once again I have ruined everything between us. Words aren't on my side. You know that. I love you. They are they only words which work the way they should. I will always be here. I love you John. I hope you forgive me. And please don't ever forget that, your Jim Moriarty.


End file.
